


field work

by rhysgore



Series: shimadacest week [4]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-09-18 12:28:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9385100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhysgore/pseuds/rhysgore
Summary: "My talent just happens to be that I am very good at making people want to fuck me.”“Some talent,” Hanzo scoffs.-or, honeypot!genji





	

**Author's Note:**

> day 4: undercover/partners in crime

_Honeypot._

 

The word, ironically, tastes bitter in his mouth.

 

Hanzo understands the concept of seduction as a form of espionage and sabotage. He understands how it can be useful, having seen its utility demonstrated a number of times before in the past. None of this means he likes it. Sex appeal is flimsy armor, in his opinion- he’s executed numerous members of the Shimada clan who valued what was between an enemy’s legs over the continued success of the family, and he can only assume that any of his rivals with half a brain have done the same.

 

Genji doesn’t agree.

 

“The appeal is in getting something you cannot have,” he explains as Hanzo paces back and forth, livid. “It’s in the submission of a known enemy. You know Kimura-gumi has an ego larger than this house. If I present myself to him, I can have him eating out of my hand and sharing family secrets within the month.”

 

“No. Absolutely not.” Hanzo’s feet feel like they’re going to burn holes into the carpet, but it’s either this, or throw the nearest fragile thing against a wall. “As clan leader, and as your older brother, I forbid it. You are not going to give yourself over, _weaponless,_ to our greatest enemy.”

 

Genji sighed. “You don’t understand, anija. I will not be weaponless.”

 

“He will almost certainly kill you if he finds a sword on your person.”

 

“I am not _talking_ about my sword.” Genji’s hand comes out to clamp down on his sleeve, stopping Hanzo in place. “Look, you trust everyone in this clan to do different jobs, and you give them these jobs based on what they are good at. Tanaka is great at convincing people to do what he wants, so you have him negotiate trade deals. Miu is built like a boar, so she is a bodyguard. My talent just happens to be that I am very good at making people want to fuck me.”

 

“Some talent,” Hanzo scoffs.

 

“Maybe it isn’t the most useful, but there are still things I can do with it. I want to be of use, Hanzo. I want to _help_ you, in whatever way I can. _This_ is how I can.” He stand up, placing his hands on Hanzo’s shoulders, meeting his eyes with a small smile. “Let me go to Kimura. Please. _Let me help you.”_

 

-

 

It’s a stupid idea. A stupid, dangerous idea that could lead to Genji getting seriously hurt, but right now, Hanzo doesn’t have any better ones.

 

After the death of their father, Genji had stepped up to help in ways he never had before. Even if his formal training in the family business had been a little bit lacking, it was still useful to have an extra person around that Hanzo knew he could trust. An extra pair of eyes, watching his back. An extra set of hands, helping control the business or his people. An extra brain, which sometimes came up with solutions that were uniquely _Genji,_ and more often than not, offered Hanzo a perspective on the problem that he never would have considered without his brother by his side.

 

Seducing an enemy clan leader was one such idea.

 

Even if the plan is not particularly good, Genji is absolutely right about one thing- Kimura needs to be taken care of. He’s been getting bolder since their father died, lying in wait like a shark ready to descend the moment it catches the scent of blood. If they don’t do something about him, there’s a possibility of them having a full-out war on their hands soon, and Hanzo can’t have that so soon.

 

He would love to have Kimura assassinated, but the man is old, and with that age came the experience from a lifetime of paranoia. There’s no way they can get any regular assassin close enough.

 

That’s where Genji comes in.

 

He barely reacts as Hanzo cuts into his side, besides to worry his bottom lip between his teeth. Of course not. He’s been trained well to resist pain, and Hanzo can’t help but feel a swell of pride, even as he’s forced to carve an ugly wound into Genji’s otherwise flawless skin. It’s a damned shame, but a necessary part of the ruse- if Kimura is to let Genji anywhere near him, he has to truly believe Genji has been cast out of his home.

 

“Will you be able to walk with that injury? I didn’t cut too deep, did I?” Hanzo knows he didn’t, but he can’t help but ask. Genji shakes his head.

 

“I’ll be fine. I promise.” He tears a strip of fabric off of his already filthy, tattered robe, and ties it around his stomach, keeping pressure on the wound and reducing any bleeding to something slow and sluggish. “I will make contact as soon as it is safe for me to do so.”

 

“You had better,” Hanzo says. “Take care, Genji.”

 

“Goodbye, anija.”

 

With those brief words, Genji turns from the gate of Shimada castle, and runs into the darkness of the night. Within the minute, his form is swallowed up by the forest, and Hanzo feels a pang of _something_ in his heart as he watches Genji disappear, unsure of when, where, and how he’ll see his brother next.

 

“Goodbye,” he murmurs.

 

-

 

He doesn’t hear from Genji for the next two months. After Genji’s disappearance, Hanzo had let a rumor slip that they had had a fight, which had resulted in him injuring and then banishing his brother, whom he hadn’t seen since. He tells the elders the minimum amount of information he can get away with, avoiding their suspicious eyes.

 

One good sign- Kimura-gumi has made no direct contact with him for the entire period of Genji’s absence so far. If he had wanted to hold Genji for ransom, he would have called, or if he wanted to brag about killing the younger Shimada. Hanzo reminds himself of these facts on a near daily basis, pushing down his worry.

 

After two months, Hanzo gets a text.

 

He doesn’t recognize the number, but it’s on his personal cell phone. Less than five people in the world have contact details for that phone. Unless someone messaged him by accident…

 

With shaking fingers, he picks it up, and slides it open.

 

> _hey :)_

 

When he gets the text, his eyes widen, and then flutter shut in relief. There’s no absolute way to prove it’s Genji from just those two words, but Hanzo doesn’t care. He wants to know his brother is safe.

 

> Who is this?
> 
>  
> 
> _your better half_

 

Hanzo collapses back into his seat upon reading the code phrase. Genji is fine. Genji is alright. Genji isn’t in immediate danger of dying, and Hanzo could almost cry.

 

> _just wanted to check in. u kno i miss you, sweetheart_
> 
>  
> 
> Are you free tonight?
> 
>  
> 
> _got some work to do._

 

Not in danger, but not at a point where it would be safe for him to try to talk to Hanzo. Even a text was probably risky, even with the façade of Genji messaging a lover he’d left behind- how on earth had he gotten his hands on a cellphone, anyways?

 

A cold, unpleasant feeling wound itself up in Hanzo’s gut when he realized that Genji had probably slept with Kimura in order to get it. Unbidden, the image of them _together_ pops into Hanzo’s mind- Genji on top, riding the old man’s cock in ecstasy, Kimura’s hands running over his flawless skin, touching parts of him that he had _no right-_

 

Hanzo relaxes his grip on his phone, breathes in deeply, and sighs. Genji is alright. That’s what matters. They can work out everything else soon.

 

> _ive got a friend who wants to meet u soon. hes real nice you’ll love him_
> 
>  
> 
> Do I know him?
> 
>  
> 
> _yeah. hes pretty important ;)_

 

That probably meant Kimura. Had Genji managed to convince the man to actually meet person to person with Hanzo? That could be huge for negotiating some form of peace, as long as Hanzo didn’t ruin the opportunity.

 

> _gotta go. txt u later. love u <3 _

 

Snapping his phone shut, Hanzo breathes in and out steadily, tension leaving his body in waves. Genji is alive. Not only is he alive, but he’s in a position where his enemies trust him enough to give him a phone, and open communication to people they don’t know. Alongside the relief, Hanzo feels a swell of both pride and respect in his brother’s skills. Unusual as they may be, they’ve gotten him this far in life. He should have had more faith.

 

-

 

Sure enough, only a few days later he gets a call from Kimura-gumi. Hanzo grinds his teeth and tries to remain calm as a man who mistakenly believes that his age advantage makes him wiser talks down to him, subtly cutting at him at every opportunity. Even with a lifetime of being trained in discipline behind him, it is very difficult for him not to snap.

 

“It has been far too long since you have graced my household with your hospitality, Shimada. I think it is time for you to pay me a visit again.” It isn’t long before they get to the issue at hand, however. Hanzo smiles where Kimura can’t see him.

 

_The old fool thinks he has an ace in the hole. He never would have invited me if he did not have some sort of leverage._

 

“Thank you, but I will have to decline.” He can’t reveal his own hand quite yet, however. Bait him. Make him believe he has all the advantages. “I have far too much work to do, especially since my worthless brother has recently left me his own responsibilities to deal with.”

 

A deep belly laugh rattles down the line. “Funny that you should call Genji useless. I have not found him to be so.”

 

“What?” Hanzo exaggerates the harshness of the exclamation, wincing. “What do you mean?”

 

“Oh, so you do still care about him. And here I was under the impression that you were the type of heartless bastard who would just leave him to my tender mercies.”

 

“You… have Genji?” Play him. Just a little bit longer. “Ah- what would it matter if you do? He is no family of mine. Not anymore. Do with him as you wish.”

 

Kimura laughs again, and Hanzo can hear him taking a drag of one of the cigars he loves so much.

 

“Don’t bullshit me, _Hanzo.”_ The informality of it stings. “You may want to pretend you have no heart, but you would not let harm come to Genji- not if you could avoid it. And if you do not come, I will hurt him. I will save out on killing him until I have cut off and sent you every part of his body.”

 

Hanzo lets the silence stretch on for several tension-filled seconds before cursing into the phone. “Damn you.”

 

“Your love for your family will be your undoing, Shimada.” Kimura takes another long drag of his cigar. “I will send my men to your house in five days. Come alone. No tricks, or Genji’s death will be slow.”

 

-

 

> I am coming for you.
> 
>  
> 
> _thats sweet of u ;)_
> 
>  
> 
> I promise you, we won’t be kept apart for much longer. I love you.

 

-

 

The days leading up to the meeting are achingly slow, and more often than not, Hanzo finds himself unable to do work. He spends them instead pacing around the castle, sending a few texts back and forth to Genji when it’s safe to do so, and wondering what it would feel like to strangle Kimura. He wants to kill him for even _threatening_ to lay a finger on Genji.

 

Eventually, Friday arrives, and with it comes a sleek black car that rolls up outside of the castle gate. Ignoring the worried looks of the staff who have come to see him off, Hanzo steps primly inside, and spends the ride in utter silence, ignoring any attempt the men accompanying him make at conversation.

 

Kimura’s own estate is… not bad, Hanzo has to admit. Around the same size as Shimada Castle, but an entirely different aesthetic, having been designed and built in a different period. The gardeners take good care of it, and the architecture is consistently reinforced in a way that both maintains the original style, while preventing the old building from falling down around the heads of its inhabitants. He likes it. He can’t _wait_ to add it to the list of Shimada-owned properties.

 

Hanzo is led inside the main building, up several flights of stairs, into a small, private meeting room. He sits at the table, and waits, allowing his body to tense up the way it has wanted to for the past hour.

 

Kimura makes him wait another fifteen minutes before he makes his presence known. Instead of sitting across the table from Hanzo, he sits at the head of it on the far end, grin vicious and self-satisfied.

 

“I almost thought you would not come, Shimada,” he says. “Almost. But you were weaker than I expected.”

 

“Where is Genji,” Hanzo hisses, clenching his fists. “If you do not have him- if this is a waste of my time- I’ll-”

 

“You will _what,_ Hanzo?” Kimura takes a cigar out of the breast pocket of his suit. He doesn’t light it, just cuts an end off with a penknife and puts it in his mouth. “What can you possibly do to me here, in my house? If you kill me, there is an _army_ outside waiting for you. And I can promise you, you won’t ever see your precious brother again.” He pats his pockets, presumably looking for a lighter. “Weak _and_ stupid. Did your daddy really raise you like this? I thought it was just a problem with your brother, but it seems like it’s both of you. Not that it’s going to matter when I take everything you own from you and destroy your family name forever.”

 

“I am not giving you _anything_ until you show me that Genji is alright.”

 

Giving up on the lighter, Kimura sighs. “You _are_ a clingy brat, aren’t you.” He turns in his chair, head swivelling towards the door. “Sweetheart, bring me my lighter, would you?”

 

After a moment, the door swing open, and Hanzo’s stomach clenches as Genji walks out. He looks… different. His hair is only barely the bright green it was when he left, black roots having spread nearly throughout the entirety of it. He looks thinner, and Hanzo suspects that it’s half due to the fact that he hasn’t been following his usual workout routine for the past two months, and half due to the delicate silks wrapped around him in place of his usual more casual choices of clothing. There’s a gold object clutched in his hand.

 

_Sweetheart._

 

Obediently, Genji flicks the lighter, and Kimura leans into it, the tip of his cigar glowing red as it catches. He takes a drag, pats his inner thigh, and Hanzo watches in barely contained fury as Genji slides onto his lap, and Kimura’s free hand comes to rest on his backside, groping his ass just lightly enough for it to not be indecent.

 

The message is clear enough, though. _This is all mine. I can do whatever I want._

 

“Say hello to our guest, Genji,” Kimura murmurs, kissing Genji’s neck, and Genji giggles until he turns around and spots Hanzo for the first time. The reaction is instant- his body goes stiff, jaw dropping. In another life, he would have been a _fantastic_ actor.

 

“H-hanzo?!” He squawks. “What are you _doing_ here?!”

 

“What am _I_ doing here?! How dare you- I came to _save_ you, and I find you cozying up with- with-” He sputters, gestures in Kimura’s direction. “I thought your life was in danger, but I see now the only danger you were in was of muscle tears from spreading your legs too wide.”

 

Genji’s eyes widen, and he shakes his head, rapidly. “You- you don’t understand, I-”

 

“Stop. Do not try and justify this shameful behavior to me.” It hurts Hanzo to say what he’s saying. It hurts him to be subjected to Genji’s pained stare, even if it is all lies, even if they both _know_ it’s lies. “Kimura, you may keep my brother. As far as I am concerned, he is not my brother anymore.”

 

“He-” Genji’s voice breaks on the one syllable. “Please don’t go. I don’t want to die.”

 

His robe slips down on his neck, and Hanzo sees the bruises. Some old, faded to an ugly shade of green, some fresh and dark purple. All the size of fingerprints.

 

Hanzo’s vision whites out.

 

This- he doesn’t want to say _man._ The contemptible _thing_ before him isn’t deserving of that title. He’s dared to touch Genji. To fuck Genji. To hurt him. To claim ownership of him.

 

The plan had been to bait Kimura into attacking him, or at least making it seem plausible that Hanzo had had to defend himself, but at that moment, Hanzo forgets everything but the marks on his brother and the person who put them there. He sees Kimura’s mouth moving, faintly, but he can’t hear what he’s saying.

 

“Genji,” he says, hoarsely.

 

His brother smiles.

 

In an instant, the chair is flipped over, and Kimura finds himself toppling backwards. He wheezes loudly as Genji’s bare foot comes down on his neck, hard enough to keep him pinned in place, but not so hard that it will completely cut off his airflow or crush his windpipe.

 

“What-”

 

“Honestly, you didn’t see this coming?” Genji purrs. “Weak _and_ stupid. Who could have guessed.”

 

“You- _bitch.”_ Hanzo approaches the two, eyes glassy. Kimura writhes under Genji’s foot, but can’t quite break free, cursing as Hanzo kneels down beside him, hands shaking. “Do you think you’re going to get out of here _alive?!_ My people, they will- they-” Rummaging in Kimura’s pockets, Hanzo finds what he was looking for. The penknife. “Are you _listening?!_ Your only chance to get out of here with your brother is me!”

 

Genji laughs, high and clear. “You killed yourself the moment you assumed I would _ever_ be your bargaining chip.” He kicks Kimura in the balls, and drops to a crouch while the man writhes. “I would sooner die. Do you understand me? I would _die_ first.”

 

Hanzo raises the penknife, and nearly drops it. His hands are shaking, badly, badly enough that he can’t hold it still until Genji glides forwards and grabs his wrists. His motion stills, and he looks up, meeting Genji’s soft, beautiful eyes.

 

“Do it, brother,” Genji murmurs. “Come on.”

 

“Wait, _wa-”_

 

He doesn’t think. He brings his arms down, again, again, perforating Kimura’s chest, catching him in the throat, the shoulders, the face, anywhere he can reach. Hanzo isn’t sure exactly when the man dies, but if he had to guess, he would assume sometime after he’d stabbed out an eye. His hands slip on the knife and he cuts his palms open, but he can’t feel it- can’t feel anything except blind rage flowing through his body, and Genji’s hands on his arms, holding him steady.

 

He only stops when Genji tightens his grip, stilling his motion. Hanzo’s hands have been shredded, but it’s nothing compared to the mess he’s made of Kimura’s body. His ears are ringing, his breath is coming in hard gasps, and all he can focus on is Genji, Genji, _Genji-_

 

The knife drops with a clatter, and Hanzo fumbles for his brother, grabbing him by the collar, leaving a bloody handprint on the silk as he pulls him in for a kiss that makes their teeth clack together. He wants to erase every single mark on Genji, every touch that wasn’t his, every memory of intimacy with someone that wasn’t him. He kisses hard enough to bruise, biting Genji’s lip, tasting blood that could be anyone’s, and Genji responds by twining hands in his hair, pulling him closer.

 

When Hanzo feels like he’s about to pass out, Genji pushes him back, holding his face by the tips of his fingers.

 

“I- I-” Hanzo stutters. He doesn’t know what to say. When word gets out as to what happened here, it will almost certainly mean war. He has started a war he’d meant to avoid, killed a man, and kissed his brother, all within five minutes. It’s more than a little overwhelming.

 

There’s a pressure around his middle, and Hanzo realizes that Genji is hugging him. The touch leaches the tension out of him, nerves quieting, limbs steadying. His hands hurt, Hanzo realizes. His face is sticky with blood, but he feels calm. Safe.

  
“I missed you,” Genji murmurs into his ear. “Come on. Let’s go home.”


End file.
